


like the deserts miss the rain

by Neffectual



Series: difficult to lead [1]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Dom Seth, Dom/sub Play, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Pining, Skype, Skype Sex, Sub Roman, breaks kayfabe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:16:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6960406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neffectual/pseuds/Neffectual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The worst part about injuring himself isn't leaving without the title, or leaving at all. It's leaving without saying goodbye to Roman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like the deserts miss the rain

**Author's Note:**

> For one half of my very own J&J Security.

The hardest part of being out injured isn’t his knee, isn’t giving up the title, for all that it’s a wrench, and isn’t the surgery or the pitying looks he gets from everyone on the roster as he limps to the cab that’ll take him to the airport, someone else carrying his bags. The hardest part is that in the rush to get him a plane, in being confined to his room, in cursing his own stupidity and Kane’s bulk – he doesn’t get to say goodbye to Roman.

Instead, it’s a fuzzy-camera skype call – Roman doesn’t do Apple products and thinks he’s somehow unique in this – the night before his surgery is scheduled, and Seth’s mouth goes dry when Roman’s image shows up on the screen. He’s all whorls of dark ink and a broad, bare chest that Seth misses resting his head on. He misses stormy blue-grey eyes as they focus on him, a piercing look that never fails to make him feel like the best and most attractive thing Roman’s ever seen. Roman looks at him like he’s something to be proud of, something to be cherished, even right now, when Seth knows he doesn’t look his best. He’s not sleeping well – not so much with pain, just thoughts he can’t seem to shut down – and he knows there are dark circles under his eyes, his hair hasn’t been washed properly, and he looks sad and grimy and exhausted. Roman still looks at him like he’s the most attractive thing he’s ever seen, and that makes Seth’s bottom lip quiver with nameless emotion.

“Bed’s been lonely without you,” Roman says, and Seth feels his heart sink, before he catalogues the stutter in his lover’s breathing, and Roman speaks again. “Fuck, I miss you.”

That’s more what Seth wants to hear, and he swallows hard, almost painfully missing Roman’s arms around him.

“Yeah,” he says, and curses his words for deserting him. This is the worst part of being able to see and hear each other, but not touch, the part where Seth, usually so eloquent, loses his words, because… it’s Roman.

Seth doesn’t know what it is about Roman that makes him so silent every time, something to do with how he looks, how Seth’s heart pounds for him, how his breath catches, how he feels like the world could end and he’d never notice because he’s lost in the feel of Roman’s eyes on him. And it doesn’t help that Roman tends to find his words when he’s looking at Seth, tends to curve his mouth around ‘beautiful’ and ‘stunning’, and Seth has never thought of himself as the kind of person to blush easily, but when Roman’s the one saying these things, he goes red disgustingly easily. He’s heard it all before, in a million contexts; ‘pretty’ tripping out of the mouths of people who think it’s an insult, the way men have whispered ‘gorgeous’ when what they mean is ‘easy’ – but Roman says them with meaning, reverence, and the words slide down Seth’s spine and make him feel pleased, appreciated, a million miles from how the same words have sounded from different men.

“You are so gorgeous,” Roman breathes out, and Seth feels the weight of it, the sincerity in his voice.

“I love you,” he says, instead of the hundreds of things that want to trip off his tongue, “Where are you right now?”

“Too far,” Roman’s voice rumbles, and Seth aches to be there, to feel that deep voice with one ear to Roman’s chest, to be anywhere but alone, here, with a busted knee he can’t even blame on someone else. “When’s surgery?”

“Tomorrow,” Seth mutters, and winces as he moves to straighten his leg. It doesn’t hurt so much as feel weird, at this point, but he knows it’ll hurt after they cut him open. Even keyhole surgery takes time to heal.

“Want me to see if I can – “ Roman starts, but Seth shakes his head.

“They’ll want to put the title on you,” he says, and really, there’s no one else he’d rather see it on, and fuck what the fans think. Roman’s built for championship, for all that he’s not got the grace of Seth in the ring, or Dean’s gift with the mic. He’s good, he’s noble, he’s – been talking all this time while Seth’s been thinking how that belt is going to look around his lover’s waist.

“ – don’t know, really, no one’s said, so…,” Roman finishes, and Seth tries to pretend he didn’t just tune out his boyfriend halfway through a sentence. Luckily the context is pretty clear.

“Bullshit,” he says, frankly. “You know it’s coming to you, no matter how they try to play it. And you deserve it, too.”

It’s pretty rare that Seth can surprise Roman, but the bigger man looks abashed, eyes downcast. Seth feels his heart soar at that, knowing he’s made Roman almost shy.

“You really think so?” Roman asks, his tone so far away from his usual self-confidence that the corners of Seth’s mouth curve up against his will.

“Yeah,” he says, softly, and reaches out his hand to touch the screen. It’s stupid, he can’t touch Roman, he knows that, but he can’t stop himself from trying.

Roman smiles, a tiny flicker of amusement at Seth’s movement, lifting his own hand for a second as well, but it’s a soft, warm smile too, and makes Seth long to be with his lover even more.

“When I get an off day, no meet and greets, I’ll come and see you,” Roman says, but the words ring hollow. They both know that day will probably be a long time coming.

“I think,” Seth says, keeping his tone light, “that’s the first insincere thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Roman laughs, and the light catches him so well that Seth almost has to close his eyes to combat the longing.

“I once told you I wasn’t really into bottoming,” Roman says, smile cheeky and broad. “Pretty sure that wasn’t all that sincere.”

Seth makes a little noise at that, and prays Roman doesn’t hear it. For all that he’s blushing and losing his words, when he gets Roman in the bedroom, he’s all power and control, and fuck but he misses the feel of Roman’s body beneath him, or the big man riding him, misses the heat and clench of him around his dick and the way Roman’s eyes flutter shut at the first thrust.

“Fuck,” Roman breathes, telling Seth that he did hear the embarrassing little mewl he made, “Can I….”

It takes Seth a moment to realise what Roman’s asking, before he’s nodding vehemently.

“Please, please, want to see you,” he moans, weak to Roman’s body, wanting to see more than just his bare chest. He adjusts his own tablet so he can lie on his side, sheets falling to expose more of his chest. He undoes his hair, too, letting it fall free of its awkward bun, almost purring in contentment as Roman’s eyes darken with lust, before he’s tucking some of his own hair behind on ear for a better view of Seth.

Roman has to curve his body a little to get his face and his dick on the screen at the same time, but the effort is more than worth it in Seth’s opinion. He wants to ask how long Roman’s been half hard, but that’s not important – what’s important is that thick, gorgeous cock stiffening for him as Roman slides a hand over his own thigh, a display and an invitation all at once. Seth drags a hand through his hair, pulling a little, and listens to Roman’s groan echoing his own. Roman bites into his own wrist to muffle the sounds he’s making – and Seth hasn’t asked if Dean is sharing the room, and frankly, he doesn’t care. He’s been without the sight of Roman coming apart for him for far too long, he needs to see and hear everything if he can’t be there in person.

His own dick is pulsing between his thighs, but he doesn’t touch himself yet. Making sure Roman spills over with Seth’s name on his lips is more important than the pre-come drooling onto his thigh.

“You’ve no idea how much I want you,” Roman breathes, sliding his hand over his cock and arching up into the touch like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. “Been trying – fuck, Seth – trying to finger myself, but it’s just not as good as your hands.”

Seth hears the broken moan he makes repeating in Roman’s speakers, can’t bring himself to care because Roman looks so good when he’s desperate for touch, when he’s on the edge and needy. It feels like Roman’s always ready to come for him; in a hallway after Raw, in the back of the rental halfway to the next town over, always primed and ready for him. Seth would never complain, and it’s not like having Roman panting for him and begging doesn’t get him throbbing in seconds – there’s something very gratifying in having a man like Roman Reigns come apart for you.

“Yeah, baby, nothing feels right when I’m not there, huh?” Seth says, knowing he sounds ridiculous, and hoping Roman’s too far gone to care. He loves dirty talk, loves the way everything he says is a litany of praise wrapped in filth, but he especially loves the way Roman reacts to it. “You can’t get off properly unless I’m fucking you, is that it, big cat?”

Roman doesn’t really arch when he’s fucking his fist, prefers to turn his head and grit his teeth in the meat of his forearm, and Seth’s thankful for that, because it means he gets to watch his lover’s face contort in pleasure, gets to see him close, watch his mouth move.

“Fuck, fuck,” Roman pants, “Please, Seth, please, I need….” He trails off into a broken moan as his hand stutters on himself, hips trying to rise up, but he’s well-trained. Seth has made sure of that by now, and coming without permission isn’t something Roman would let himself do.

“You’ve had all week,” Seth says, trying not to sound like he’s pouting. Roman has had every chance to touch himself, and he’s acting like it’s been a million years since he last had an orgasm. Still, he’s very pretty, especially wild-eyed, hair mussed against the pillow, and his lips swollen from biting at them.

“Didn’t,” Roman whines, and Seth looks puzzled, he must do, because Roman shakes his head. “You didn’t say I could come, so I didn’t.”

Fuck. That hits Seth in the gut like a lightning bolt, the sudden image of Roman with his fingers slick and stretching himself, but not coming – it’s too much, he has to get his hand between his legs, shoving the sheets out of the way and hearing a filthy, desperate noise leak out of Roman’s open mouth before he’s biting at his arm again. Seth’s shuddering as he strokes himself, too fast, too much urgency, and Roman sounds like he might cry with the effort of holding back.

“Oh, kitten,” Seth gasps out, the nickname pouring out of him, just like it does when he’s fucking into Roman, hard and fast, and he can’t stop himself from wishing it sounded sexier, less like he’s the one who needs it so badly. “You want to come for me?”

“Please!” Roman wails, and Seth allows himself a smirk even as he twists his wrist just so and bucks into his own hand, so close to the edge.

“Go on,” he hisses between gritted teeth, and wonders if Roman heard him. He doesn’t move, so Seth tries again. “Come for me, sweet boy, Ro, come for me.”

Roman rocks into his fist a couple of times before he’s coming, his free hand twisted into his hair the same way it does when Seth’s on top of him, and that’s all it takes for Seth to jerk upwards and spill over his hand, eyes slamming shut as his back arches.

When he opens his eyes, Roman’s smiling at him like the huge dork that he is, face soft and lax as he finishes licking his hand clean. Seth groans, reaching for tissues and thanking his past self for being too lazy to move them and the lube somewhere other than the bedside table.

“I miss you,” Roman says, softly, and his mouth is smiling, but his eyes are a little sad, a little lonely.

“You said that already,” Seth murmurs back, looking up from cleaning himself off before he pulls the sheets up his body again. “I miss you too.”

“What time are you going in for surgery?” Roman asks, and Seth mentally tries to work out where Roman should be, before giving up.

“It’s eleven here now, I’m meant to be going in at nine? Whatever time that is for you.”

Roman’s face moves as he calculates, and nods.

“Lemme know when you’re out and done?” he asks, and Seth just nods, biting his lip not to say all the things he wants to, about how he’s scared, how he doesn’t want to do this alone. He doesn’t need to say any of it, remembers Roman texting him before the hernia operation, remembers how helpless he felt with his lover in the hospital and him with no way to get there. Roman knows how he feels, how easy it is to feel useless, like they failed.

“Are you two done?” Dean’s voice breaks through the silence, and Roman curses under his breath, pulling the sheets over himself seconds before Dean’s crashing down on the other side of the bed, making the screen bounce. “Just, I wanna sleep at some point tonight, and there’s only so long I can tune out the moaning if the big guy here doesn’t use his headphones.”

Seth refuses to blush – Dean’s seen both of them naked before, and he’s not about to pretend that they’ve got any modesty left between them.

“Quit your whining,” Roman says, and lets Dean nuzzle against his shoulder, “We’re just saying goodbye. Seth’s got surgery in the morning.”

“Good luck, brother,” Dean says, easily, nodding, and then rolls back off the bed. “Come on, Ro, say goodnight.”

“Thanks,” Seth calls, as Dean disappears out of sight. He looks back at Roman. “I’ll maybe call you once I’m home?”

“I’d like that,” Roman says, and reaches out for a second, touching the screen, before shaking his head. He blows a kiss at the camera, and Seth ignores Dean’s laughter in the background and catches the kiss, pulling his hand to his chest.

“I love you,” Seth murmurs, letting his hand drop, finally.

“Love you too,” Roman replies, tone full of everything they’re not saying, sincere to the last. Then his mouth quirks, and he grins. “Call me tomorrow, bionic boy. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight,” Seth manages, and then Roman’s ending the call, and Seth’s alone in his house. Surgery tomorrow, and after that, rehab, and after that… he’ll be back where he belongs. He leans over and switches the bedside light off, shoving his tablet under the pillow on the other side of the bed. Yeah. He’ll be back soon enough.


End file.
